She is Gone

She is dressed for sin, in a blouse so
thin, with her hair like sunlit flame,
Fifteen years old, looking scared and cold, and Candy is her
name.
Now a man drives by with a hungry eye and a fifty dollar
note.
And he drives her out down a country route with a jacknife
in his coat.

She is gone, she is gone, and
the earth closed over her head.
Like the ones before, just a worthless whore,
Selling sin to buy her bread.

So intent is he that he does not see that
his quarry's fear has passed;
A fresh grave waits by the junkyard gates, the seventh, and
the last.
Now he lays her down on the cold damp ground, with the moss
to make her bed.
Where the willow grieves, with its rustling leaves, like the
voices of the dead.

Now he stills her shout as the knife
comes out, and he puts his face to hers:
"Six lives I fear I have taken here, the seventh shall be
yours."
But the small cold fist that grips his wrist has all his
strength and more.
"Oh no," says she, "that shall not be -- for I've been here
before."

"There are five," she sighs, "who stretch
and rise, to pay you for your tricks.
Beneath the firs where the grave-dirt stirs, for I was
number six.
Chill and dumb from their graves they come, to serve you in
my stead.
And more besides -- they shall be your brides, to grace your
wedding bed."

This song was inspired by a roleplaying game also.
My character needed a good explanation, quick for why she
didn't fall down when the bad guy shot her.